Sometimes a girl just needs to get away, get back to nature, and get her head together.
After last week’s debacle, that’s just what Flannery did. Our friend, Rachel, from Journeys With Autism, opened her home to Flannery for some badly needed reflection and recuperation.
Following is Rachel’s account of the visit:
Well, Flat Flannery came to our lovely little rural town of Brattleboro, VT this week, and she was the best house guest ever! She saw my husband stacking wood out in the back, and pitched right in to help! It was a miracle, really, given that she was lifting wood several hundred times her weight, so suffice it to say that I was in awe.
After that, she spent some time gamboling (yes, gamboling) in our flower garden among the budding tulips, and then we went for a very lovely hike through the woods. Flat Flannery was extremely considerate of my sensory sensitivities, and didn’t feel the need to yack at me constantly as we were walking, but entertained herself by building an amazing fort out of fallen branches and leaves, and then hiding from me there. I nearly had a panic attack when I saw she was gone, but I figured that I had other copies of Flat Flannery at home, and that I could always replace her. (I kid! I kid!)
Once I found her, we continued on, and that’s when things turned a little weird and macabre. First, Flat Flannery insisted that I take a photo of her with a former mental hospital in the background. I have no idea why she’d find a former mental hospital such a fun thing to pose in front of; perhaps it was the 1830s architecture? I decided not to probe too deeply into her motivations.
Then, we arrived at an old Brattleboro cemetery, and Flat Flannery just had to get a photo of herself standing next to a tombstone of a guy who had died in 1850. Again, I have no idea what was going through Flat Flannery’s mind on this one, and I do my best not to judge, but I have to admit that I was a bit taken aback when she asked me whether I’d known the guy under the tombstone. When I told her that no, of course I didn’t, I’m only 52, she replied that she was sorry, and that she’d sincerely thought I looked a lot older.
Given that she lives her life in two dimensions, I easily forgave her lack of perspective (heh), and it didn’t get in the way of our good time. When we got back to my house, Flat Flannery was delighted to partake in a recreation of the traditional Passover meal, and especially loved the egg matzah. I know that she was just being polite, but I thought it was a very nice gesture nonetheless, and more than made up for that crack about my looking like I’m at least 161.
Thank you for spending time in the rurals, Flat Flannery. Hope you had a relaxing and restorative time!
Flanny sure enjoyed being spoiled by Rachel, rather than being hounded by shady hucksters trying to sully her good name.
In fact, she enjoyed it so much, she many never leave…